


Our Joy Was So Bright

by grantairas



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 01:52:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grantairas/pseuds/grantairas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We were like gods at the dawning of the world, and our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Joy Was So Bright

**Author's Note:**

> so i just finished this book and i really needed to write this i'm sorry

He never wants to forget this, and he doubts he ever will.

Achilles is stretched out beside him, the shadows changing shapes on his chest as the breeze rustles the leaves above them. Patroclus wants to reach out and trace their edges, to kiss the places where the sun warms his skin. He looks down at him, and Achilles smiles back. His eyes are brimming with the same happiness that Patroclus can feel beating in his chest.

He leans down to kiss him. He feels Achilles’ fingers tangling in his hair, keeping him there, the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. When he pulls away, there’s an inch of space between them.

“Let’s go swimming,” he whispers.

He takes Patroclus' hand in his as he stands. They face the river, watching the glint of sunshine on the water, and Achilles jumps in with Patroclus still gripping his hand.

When they surface, grinning and fighting back breathless laughter, Achilles lies back and floats in the steady current. His body relaxes, his eyes close, and Patroclus thinks how he’d like to be that water, the cool sureness at his back, keeping him afloat, holding him. It is enough to be with him, to watch him, to love him. And to know that when he wakes to fingers brushing against his, or when he hears the quiet strength of his name in his mouth, he is loved as well.

But in the moments when Achilles does not watch him, it’s different. Not painful like it could be, but different. He can feel the world that separates the two of them; this beautiful god-boy, strong and sure, nothing out of place, nothing wasted. He feels almost fragile next to him, with the awkward weight of his limbs and his almost too-human body.

But then Achilles is reaching for his hand. The brightness dancing in the deep green and gold of his eyes is enough.

He pulls Patroclus towards him, and they wrestle together in the cool pulse of the river. Patroclus leads Achilles to the water’s edge and lies beside him as they slowly regain their breath.

“I remember when I first saw you,” Achilles murmurs from somewhere above him. Patroclus twists awkwardly and finds his wide grin, his dripping wet hair.

“Oh?”

“I just thought of it. When you looked at the sky like that.”

“Tell me.”

Achilles’ fingers begin to tap out a rhythm on his shoulder. Patroclus slides closer, rests his head on his lap, and smiles up at him.

“You were quiet. I almost did not notice you. I remember, you looked away from me, like you were embarrassed.” He pauses and trails his finger over Patroclus’ lips. “Were you embarrassed?”

“I felt out of place,” he answers quietly. Achilles nods.

“You should not have.” He smiles again, and Patroclus’ eyes wander to a droplet of water gliding down his hipbone.

“When I saw you at dinner, when our eyes met, did you feel out of place then?”

“No.” Patroclus lets the tip of his tongue slip out to meet the place where the water is glistening on Achilles’ skin. Above him, his eyes widen.

“I felt... surprised. I did not know what to think of you,” Patroclus says. A hint of a smirk colors his words.

“And what about now? What do you think of me now?”

Patroclus gently kisses the ridge of his hipbone. He sees the way Achilles’ eyes brighten, the start of a smile warming him like sun. Patroclus leans forward just enough to push him back, and when he’s looking down at him, brushing the golden hair from his eyes, he whispers, “I will show you.”


End file.
